


The Arrangement

by 221castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Dorks, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:02:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27230929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221castiel/pseuds/221castiel
Summary: Neither Dean nor Cas are exactly excited about the engagement party for their arranged marriage
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 79





	The Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of @/diminual amazing arranged marriage art they drew on Tumblr for day 23 of suptober!

Angels falling. 

Each one painted to perfection, with horrified expressions, and flailing arms. The top of the background started as a faded blue only to become an orange almost brown colour at the bottom, meant to be hells flames ready to scorch the falling species. The painting itself was held in a gold frame, as if it was something to be proud of, to hold up for anyone passing to see. 

Castiel hated the painting, he always had, yet now it was the only thing he could bring himself to look at. Not his father who stood in front of him, not the other king who stood a few feet to the right of Chuck, and especially not Dean Winchester. He refused to look at Dean Winchester who was sat at the other end of the plush couch.

“Castiel,” Chuck demanded, though Cas’s glare didn’t falter. His arms staying crossed over his chest, lips pressed in a tight line. “You are being a child.”

He didn’t reply, not caring for the sternness in his father’s voice. “There are people waiting to see you, could you at least pretend to be excited?”

“Excited for what?” Castiel snapped, his gaze finally going to Chuck. “To be married off to some boy.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Could you have at least found someone who can eat a meal without spilling it all over himself.”

“Hey,” Dean snapped, Cas’s gaze immediately darting to the other.

Dean was sat with one ankle rested on his other knee, his arms crossed at his chest, over the red jacket he wore. It was a nice coat, made from a velvet material, with gold buttons the same shade as the gold that lined his black pants, and would have still been a nice jacket if Dean hadn’t been so fidgety. Constantly tugging at the hem, at the collar, at anything he could get his fingers on. They’d known each other for little over three days and Cas wasn’t sure he’d seen Dean sit still once.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel replied, purposely speaking harsher than before. “Did you not spill soup all over yourself last night?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a pretentious di-”

“Dean,” John snapped, even Cas flinching back at the hostility. “Now both of you on your feet. We’re already late and like Chuck said, people are waiting.” 

Without another argument Cas stood, his arms staying crossed in front of his chest. He sent the painting one last glare before following his father and the Winchester’s down the hallway, towards the ballroom. His glare had returned to the back of Dean’s head, his heels clicking against the tiled flooring.

For a moment that’s all he focused on. 

One click, two clicks. The beat steady and familiar, unlike the situation he walked towards.

The clicking of his heels, not the party he walked towards. The party that he would be forced to smile throughout, pretend he was happy for the engagement, pretend he was in love with the man before him as they danced for everyone to watch. Just the clicking of his heels. 

One click, two clicks, then they were stopping in front of the large doors, behind them the ballroom Cas knew all too well. 

A shaken breath parted his lips as he glanced across each man. Both kings looked somewhere between exhausted and furious, so different from Dean who now held an emotionless expression. Cas’s gaze rested on the other for a second before Dean glanced his way and he quickly looked back to his father.

“Now,” Chuck began. “If you’re both on your best behaviours the night should go quick enough.” 

Cas glanced back to Dean, the other looking towards his hands, which now fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket. He wasn’t sure if Dean had a best behaviour, or even a decent behaviour, as far as Cas was concerned he could be nothing more than cocky or rude.

“You are going to be introduced, then you will share a dance, and finally talk with guests,” Chuck paused. “You will be excited for the engagement and polite to anyone who asks about it, understood?” 

Cas only gave a small nod of his head, Dean mumbeling an understood from his left. It seemed to be enough for Chuck and John, both men turning away, Chuck nodding towards the servants to open the doors. 

Within seconds the doors were opened, both kings stepping out, and then closed again, leaving Dean and Cas alone. Silence ticking around them, thick and heavy, waiting for one of them to be brave enough to break it.

Cas’s gaze dropped from the door and to the blue jacket he wore. It was slim fitting, made from the same material as Dean’s, with a gold pallet across his chest, and along his shoulders, the same shade as the belt around his waist. The red sash that traveled from his left shoulder to his right hip bone stood out, seeming to stare back at him. Mock him.

With shaking hands Cas flattened the jacket, attempting to keep busy, or at least seem busy so Dean wouldn’t talk to him. 

He ran his hands down the material a second time, then along his white pants, and then along his belt. Fingers still shaking, heart seeming to hammer through his skull. 

Were his hands sweaty, probably. 

Were his legs going to collapse, definitely. 

How many people had his father said there would be, two hundred, three hundred. Even fifty seemed like to many.

“Your highness?” 

Castiel tensed looking up to the servant that had spoken. The man, along with the second, had both stepped towards the door, each holding one of the gold handles. “Are you ready?”

Was he ready? 

Was he ready for all eyes to be on him. For everyone to see him next to Dean, to see him with Dean. 

No. 

Not at all.

He was anything but ready. 

Cas gave a forced nod, looking to Dean. The other stood barely a foot away, his eyes already on Cas. He looked calm and collected, the complete opposite of how Cas felt. 

“You good angel?” 

Cas clenched his jaw, “don’t call me that.” 

Dean's face spread in a smile, a cocky one that made punching him in the face seem incredibly appealing. “What would you rather? Sunshine? Light of my life? hon-“ 

“I would rather we speak as little as possible,” Cas replied. “If that isn’t too hard for you.”

Dean squinted slightly, his lips pressed in a tight line. He looked unnatural in his red jacket. The gold shoulder pads and belt keeping his back straight and stiff, while his hair was styled with care, all so different from what Cas had seen in the past few days. More often than not finding Dean a simple blouse, or even his pajamas no matter what hour it was.

“Well then.” Dean raised his arm, offering his elbow to Cas, “we don’t want to leave people waiting.”

Instead of locking his arm with the other Cas stepped closer, Dean's eyes on his for a moment before Cas looked down to the jacket Dean wore. He raised his shaking hands, carefully grabbing at the hem and giving it a soft tug to straighten the fabric. He then brought his hands to the blue sash across Dean's chest, the same blue as his own jacket, and gave it a slight adjustment, the material still wrinkled from Dean's fidgeting though it would have to do. 

“Now I’m ready,” Cas whispered as he stepped back linking his own arm with Dean’s, resting his hand against the other’s bicep.

He looked back to the large doors that were being pulled open, his breath hitched in his throat as he took the first step forward. Part of him didn’t think he could walk. His heart hammering, ringing through his head louder with each step. One step forward, then another.

Was he shaking, probably. He wouldn’t be shocked if Dean could feel it.

They stopped at the top of the large staircase the doors led to giving them a moment to be introduced, though Cas wasn’t sure if it was happening. He couldn’t hear anything other than ringing and his own shaken breaths as his gaze darted across the ballroom.

It was large, with white walls and golden trimming, along them, and the roof, though unlike earlier when he and Dean had come to practise their waltz, it was no longer empty. People now filled it, everywhere, men and women with their gazes locked on him. All dressed to perfection, all expecting perfection. 

For a moment the thought passed his mind, maybe his father had said six hundred guests. 

It certainly seemed like it.

A soft tug came to Cas’s arm and with it he stepped forward, letting Dean lead him down the staircase, as his own gaze stayed locked on the crowd. 

It wasn’t until he and Dean stopped in the center of the room that he looked away from the crowd and instead to his- fiancé. Dean’s eyes already on him. 

Their eyes stayed locked, Cas, with the help of his heels, eye level to Dean as he rested his left hand against Dean’s shoulder, and Dean rested his right against Cas’s hip. They then laced their other hands together, closing whatever space had once been between them. 

One breath, that was all Cas was allowed before the music began and Dean was leading him across the dance floor. Another breath didn’t come, instead staying hitched in his throat.

They’d practised for hours the night before then multiple times earlier that day though still Cas felt as if each movement was forced, hesitant. His hand sticky against Dean’s rough one, his legs still shaking, threatening to collapse. 

One, two, three.

One, two, Dean stepped on his toe, three.

One, two, three.

It was the only thought that ticked through Cas’s head. Over and over, trying to keep his racing heart from bursting through his chest.

“You good?” 

Cas looked to Dean, expecting that stupid grin to be across his face similair to the one from earlier though instead he was met with concern. Dean’s face close enough that Cas could see the green of his irises, the smallest freckles that scattered his cheeks.

“Yes.” He took a forced breath, glancing to his right where he could see the crowd. Quickly, as he met someone's eyes , he looked back to Dean, just him and Dean, practising like they had the night before, no one watching. Just him and Dean. “This is just incredible stupid.” 

“At least we agree on one thing,” Dean whispered back. “I think I’d have preferred if my dad had gotten me an arranged murder.” 

The smallest smile tugged at Cas’s lips, a smile similar to the one that tugged at Dean’s. It suited the other, brightening his features, adding a sparkle to his eyes, and a crinkle to the corner of them.

“I think I would prefer if you didn’t step on my toes,” Cas whispered back. 

Dean scrunched his nose. “Maybe you shouldn’t have your toes under my feet.” Despite the words, his tone didn’t have the same harshness it had held in the past few days, instead it was lighter, almost teasing.

“My toes are exactly where they’re supposed to be.” 

“If they were I wouldn’t step on them.”

Cas pressed his lips together, eyes still burning against the other’s. “You’re incredibly annoying.”

“I could say the same about you angel.”

That was the last thing either of them said for the rest of the dance, instead letting the music fill the silence and soon enough even that had ended. They were separated for not much more than a second, bowing to each other, before Cas’s arm was once again linked with Dean’s and they were being dragged from guest to guest. 

He had been wrong, Dean did have a good behaviour, a much better behaviour then himself. He was charming with the guests, kind and talkative, seeming more than happy to discusse their engagement, or the wedding plans; it got to the point that even Cas started to wonder if Dean was actually excited about the wedding. 

Though Cas never got the chance to ask as it was one person after the next, he himself staying silent through most of it. He hated talking to people, and was more than happy to be as Dean put it, arm candy. As long as he didn’t have to talk and could simply nod along politely, adding small comments when the guest spoke directly to him. 

Even by what must have been the hundredth guest Dean’s charming personality hadn’t faltered. Instead he happily chatted with the older women who’d stopped them, Cas’s left arms still wrapped around Dean's bicep, while his right hand held a glass of wine.

“It's been such a lovely night,” the woman hummed, her face spread in a dream-like smile. “And you both look so handsome.”

Cas only gave an awkward nod though Dean instead looked towards him. A wide grin was spread across his face, it unlike the one that had come while they danced didn’t fully meet his eyes. “Doesn’t he?” Dean hummed.

Cas quickly looked to the floor. He knew it was fake yet that didn’t stop the heat from flaring up his neck and across his cheeks, the women’s laugh ringing through his ears.

“Oh you two are going to have such a lovely wedding,” the woman continued on, “Do you have any plans for it.”

Cas let his gaze stay on the floor, only listening as Dean talked about how they couldn’t decide between a spring or winter wedding. Explaining the pros and cons of both while the woman happily added her own opinions, winter is cold, though spring brings pollen.

What was so wrong with pollen he wasn’t sure. 

Cas looked back to Dean, the other still looking to the woman as they talked. The gold collar of Dean’s jacket had somehow become uneven, and part of Cas wanted to lean forward and fix it, or ask the other how he managed to ruin things so easily. Was it that hard to stay still for five minutes. Though Cas did neither, keeping his hands to himself, and lips sealed shut. 

“And where’s that brother of yours?” The woman asked.

Cas’s gaze left Dean and instead he looked across the crowd, something that seemed even busier as he stood in the midst of it all. 

“Probably off gettin’ himself in trouble.”

How many more people would they have to talk. How many more times would they have to force smiles as they were flocked over. Another hour, Cas wouldn’t be shocked if it was at least another three. 

They’d been there for almost two already, Cas’s heart still hammering in his chest, mind numb from the constant adrenaline that coursed through his veins.

“We all know where he gets it from.” 

Cas took a sharp breath. With his shaking hands he raised the glass to his lips, taking a small sip to seem busy.

The whole room buzzed around him, alive with conversation, and movement, and music. It all spinning around him, matching the beat of his frantic heart. 

He felt a soft tug against the arm that held Dean’s, and his gaze immediately went to the other who was already looking his way.

“Come on,” Dean whispered, giving Cas’s arm another pull. 

This time, Cas let himself be led away, giving the woman a quick smile before following Dean through the crowd, and towards what Cas assumed was one of their fathers. It wasn't until Dean had brought them to the outskirts of the crowd that he realized Dean had somewhere else in mind, and instead of to their fathers he was led out a side door, into a much quieter hallway. 

Cas looked back to the door they’d stepped through, the heavy wood closing with a low thud. The nose seemed to echo through the empty hall, bouncing along the walls, before it faded out, leaving them in silence.

His gaze darted down the hall, the walls lit only by a few candles, and the moon light that fell through the window. If they were to walk to the right they would reach the kitchen, and to the left the castles library.

“What are we do-” Cas began as he turned back to the other, though as he was met with Dean sat on the floor one of his shoes off and the other soon to follow, his lips tugged in a frown. “What are you doing?”

Dean looked up, the once wide grin that had been across his face most of the night had fallen, replaced by a much more exhausted expression. “Taking my shoes.”

“Why?”

“Cause they’ve been killin’ me.”

Cas tilted his head as Dean managed to pull his second shoe off, tossing it to the side, before he began working at the buttons of his jacket. Part of him wondered if it was too late to call off the engagement, did his father really expect him to marry this ma-boy.

After the second row of buttons had been undone Dean’s hands fell back to his sides, lips puckered slightly as he looked up to Cas. “You should do it too.”

“Take off my shoes?”

“No,” Dean replied, in a dramatically raised voice. “Your pants- of course your shoes, don’t your feet hurt?” 

Cas pressed his lips in a tight line looking down to his feet, before he slowly sat down. Part of him wanted to argue, though he knew there was no point, his feet were throbbing. 

He placed his glass of wine next to the wall then began tugging off his first heel, able to hear Dean stand as he did it. The second heel soon followed. 

As he placed his shoes against the wall, he heard Dean’s laugh, followed by the stumble of feet. 

Cas’s gaze immediately went up just in time to watch as the other glide across the floor, wool socks sliding easily across the tile flooring. A wide grin was spread across Dean’s lips, lightening up his whole face, and tugging a small smile across Cas’s own lips.

“Cas,” Dean laughed, he glided back down the hall, coming to a stumbled stop in front of where Cas sat. He had both hands offered out Cas’s gaze first going to them, the tips of Dean’s fingers stained from the raspberry tarts he’d been eating, then to Dean’s face. “Come on.”

Slowly he raised his hands, lacing his fingers with the other’s and letting Dean pull him to his feet. His own socks slippery against the tiles, sliding slightly as he stood. 

With one hand still in the other’s Cas slid his feet across the floor, Dean doing the same next to him. The once silent halls now echoing with their laughter at each stumble of feet, and slide that almost sent one of them into a wall, or crashing into an expensive decoration. Cas’s hand never left Dean’s gripping the other tightly to keep his own balance, the smile across his face burning his cheeks. 

For a moment he could forget the night. 

Instead let it be just him and Dean, friends that slid down hallways. That laughed at each other's mess ups, and raced one another through halls.

It wasn’t until they'd reached one end of the hall and they heard the door they’d come from open that Castiel even remembered the engagement party they were supposed to be attending. His heart immediately leaping into his throat at the sound of Dean’s father.

“Dean?” 

“Castiel?” 

“Shit,” Dean whispered.

Cas’s lips parted to reply, though before he could get anything out Dean was pulling him to the right, down a new hallway, and through the first door.

They were immediately surrounded by darkness as Dean pulled the door closed, the room itself small, barely big enough to fit both of them. “Dean,” Cas whispered, getting a shushing noise in response. 

He didn’t speak again instead letting out a small breath as John’s footsteps grew louder.

“Castiel!”

“Dean!”

He felt Dean’s grip around his wrist tighten slightly as John’s voice grew louder. He couldn’t have been far, maybe a few feet from the door, his footsteps heavier, growing louder with each passing second, Cas’s heart matching the growing pace. 

“Boys, there are people wanting to talk to you.”

The footsteps stopped for a moment Cas’s breath hitching in his throat. He looked to Dean, just able to see his features through the darkness, the smile no longer across his face.

He could feel Dean’s breath flaring across his cheeks. 

His own heart hammering in his chest. 

“Dean!”

“Castiel!”

The footsteps began again, becoming more distant, though it wasn’t until Cas could no longer hear John’s voice that he let out a shaken breath. Even then another few seconds passed before Dean pushed open the door and they stepped out. 

“Let’s get going,” Dean said, giving Cas’s wrist the smallest tug. “He’ll be back soon.”

“Should we not return to the party?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, as if the idea itself was absolutely insane, something that didn’t make much sense to Cas. People knew they were gone, hiding would just make things worse.

“Why? So we can talk about what flower we want as our centerpiece?” Dean gave his wrist another tug, “Comeon Cas.”

Cas tilted his head, looking up for the other. 

Even in the large hallway they stood close. So close Cas could see the engravings of the buttons on Dean’s jacket, the freckles that scattered his cheeks, barely visible yet most definitely there, and the green of his irises. A vibrant colour that was scattered with lighter and darker shades, the smallest flecks of gold close to his pupil.

A small breathing parted Cas’s lips, his gaze staying locked on the other as he gave a small nod. “Okay.”

Dean’s face immediately spread into a grin, the kind that lit up his whole face, that suited him so well. “Awesome,” Dean once again tugged at his wrist and this time Cas followed, letting Dean drag him through the hallways, their socks slipping and sliding across the tiles. Laughs echoing against the walls.

Maybe, Cas thought as the other slid across the floor, sliding straight into the wall at the end of the hallway. 

Maybe Dean Winchester wasn’t completely awful.


End file.
